- Jul 28, 2003
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Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a
candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile
hand, tears running down her face.
Her praying roused him from his slumber; He looked up
and his pale lips began to move slightly. "Becky my
darling" he whispered.
"Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk."
He was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired
voice, "I have something that I must confess."
There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping
Becky, "Every thing's all right, go to sleep."
"No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I slept
with your sister, your best friend, her best friend,
and your mother!"
I know, sweetheart," whispered Becky, "let the
poison work."